What I Love About Today
As I sit here at my desk in my studio this morning, the snow is piling up on the little balcony outside my window.
Big fluffy flakes are swirling happily through the air and find themselves accumulating like a thick layer of vanilla frosting on the “chocolate cake” railing.
Our little bird feeder has become a gathering spot for chickadees, finches, and sparrows with an occasional cardinal. A little Junko just fluttered for a moment on that snow-covered railing and then flew up to the feeder for a seed or two.
Yesterday I was delighted to spot a brief and rare visit from a blue jay. But, in contrast, the dreaded starlings made their presence known often by aggressively ramming their bodies into the feeder, scattering seeds everywhere. Ugh!
But today, at this moment, all is quiet.
Two of my neighbor friends and I did our usual early morning walk. The snow had just begun and our neighborhood looked like a glittery wonderland as we made our way up the street.
(I always wonder why I love that glittery look. Maybe heaven will be lined with sparkly brightness and this snowfall is just a taste of our future joy.)
We’ll get our snowshoes out tomorrow, and trek off our normal path and into the woods. Finally! We’ve been waiting.
After coming inside, all snowy and rosy-cheeked, I checked in with Brian who was reading the newspaper, warm but jealous that I had just enjoyed an hour out in the snow. A big smile appeared on his snow-loving face.
Finally, snow, he says! How was it?
Perfect, was my reply.
Our oatmeal and toast breakfast passed by with gentle conversation while I proudly solved the puzzle on the back page of our newspaper’s Sports section. Brian followed up with a reading from a devotional we’re working through getting an early start on readings for Lent. Our unity about the complexity of the writing made us smile. Oh well, tomorrow will be better.
And then we prayed for our family. Jonathan, Joel, Rachel, Hannah, Greg, Lucy, Charles, Annie Pearl, Oliver, and Elsie.
Keep them safe today, Lord. They are so dear to us. If they have to be out, watch over them. If not, let them play and play to fully enjoy the gift of this snowy day. Let them see in it, your Fatherly love for them.
I think back to this morning, before our walk in the snow, as I sat in this chair, pondering the things of God. The first verse I read was from Zephaniah 3:17. The LORD your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love, he will no longer rebuke you but will rejoice over you with singing.
Could this lovely snowfall be a part of his great delight in us? Snow is covering the ground - maybe those awful viruses that plagued our household the past two weeks will hide and freeze under this snow for a while, giving us a reprieve from their awfulness.
Could this beauty be part of his rejoicing over us?
Could this unplanned day at home be part of his love for us?
God’s good gifts often come disguised - hidden until some future wisdom reveals just how good they are.
Like this snow.
Or a fall on the ice. Or Influenza. Or even starlings, perhaps. (I can’t imagine it!)
Oh to have eyes to see!
For today, I’m going to say yes to all of the above. God’s with-ness is often disguised and to see and sense him we have to be looking and longing for him with hearts that seek and keep on seeking him.
I’m sure he is pleased to find our hearts and minds lifted toward him today.
Let’s look for the hidden gifts of this day and rejoice that we have a God who stays with us, saves us, takes great delight in us, and rejoices over us with singing.
Just imagine! All that love just may be concealed in the beauty of this perfectly lovely snowy day.